*
Perhaps, mine soul survives by torrential fails,
tonicity flies easier anyway on corroded rails
-
insides carry few dozen niches,
slight variable mind altering infections,
scratch at them as irritation itches
-
One's path shouldn't be...
perceived...
                pathetic,
rather, considerable strength put forth cosmetic,
words are of one defense aesthetically poetic;

Who yearns returning towards retrospect?
mine won't slip under residual pain,
nor will stares await heart's immediate disconnect,
yesterday's already poured rainy exchange
-
see through darkened drapes,
there's more than one route to escape.